


The Reigning Queen of Gotham

by agentx13



Category: Batman (Comics), Captain America (Comics), Marvel (Comics)
Genre: DC Comics AU, F/M, sam wilson as a surprise guest, sharon as catwoman, sharon carter month, steve as batman
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-11
Updated: 2020-12-11
Packaged: 2021-03-10 19:09:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,032
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28012182
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/agentx13/pseuds/agentx13
Summary: Sharon Carter never meant to be a thief. She never meant to fall for a crime-fighting furry, either, but hey. Plans change.
Relationships: Sharon Carter/Steve Rogers
Comments: 1
Kudos: 10
Collections: Sharon Carter Month





	The Reigning Queen of Gotham

**Author's Note:**

> I have some BatCat fans as friends (they know who they are), and they also ship Staron, so this is for them and anyone else who might like them.

Sharon Carter never meant to be a thief. That was the problem with your world going awry. Plans change. She’d meant to go into law enforcement, likely a spy agency that would challenge her more than being a beat cop. It appealed to her strong sense of right and wrong.

Oh, the stupidity of youth.

Still, her training for various agencies comes in handy in her current profession. She knows how to get in an out of secure locations, knows how to monitor and evade the authorities, knows how to read and outwit other criminals.

That night changes things. She pops up onto the roof through a skylight and finds a hand offering to help her up. She accepts – it would be rude not to – and finds a handcuff around one wrist.

She also gets a good look at the man trying to, apparently, arrest her.

She has to get another look to make sure she isn’t imagining things, and then laughs. “You must be joking.”

“I’m here to take back the diamond and arrest you.” His voice is gruff. Low. It might be threatening if he weren’t dressed like a bat.

“If I guess your name, will you let me go?”

He frowns at her. The upper half of his face is covered. He has a strong jaw. And there’s a vein that’s thumping, either nervously or angrily – judging by the frown, angrily.

“Manbat!”

“You’re under arrest.”

She hands him his handcuffs. She’d unpicked them while he’d been frowning at her. “Better luck next time, Manbat.”

She runs to the edge of the roof and jumps off. He gives chase, but this is her city, and he can’t follow her forever.

Gotham never fails to be interesting.

* * *

She makes enough money off the sale of the diamond to help some of her neighbors, particularly the orphanage around the corner. Gotham is an interesting city, sure, but it isn’t a kind one.

She doesn’t see Manbat for a couple heists, but she still amps up her training. Manbat (Batman, sure, but she’s petty enough to call him Manbat anyway) has put the Riddler away, the Joker away, even Penguin. It isn’t ego that makes her think she’s one of the top criminals left in the city. He’ll come after her again.

She attends a gala for the Rogers Foundation at the museum, scoping out some of the art that’s being auctioned off. She’s always appreciated art. She’s also appreciated the way security naturally pays less attention to the unused wings during galas.

“Exquisite, isn’t it?” a voice asks, vaguely familiar but not enough for her to identify.

“Very.” She turns to find Steve Rogers himself there. “If it isn’t the man of the hour.”

He smiles, every bit the charming playboy rogue she’s heard he is. “You have me at a disadvantage. I’m afraid I don’t know who you are. Any way we could fix that?”

She smiles. “Perhaps I’ll auction my name off tonight.”

“I’m sure your name is as much a piece of art as the rest of you.”

She laughs again. He’s charming and cheesy, and she can’t believe she considered missing this to stay home with a Hallmark movie and some popcorn. “Now I _have_ to make you guess.”

He’s about to speak when there’s a rattle of gunshots from the museum entrance. Sharon frowns at the noise, a nail absently scritching as her wine glass as she thinks of her costume and tools stashed in a vent in the ladies’ room.

She excuses herself, and she – well, a different version of herself – reappears to do battle several seconds later.

Someone else is there, too. Someone she recognizes. She pulls a gun from a man’s fingers with her whip, reducing him to a man less likely to shoot an innocent bystander. “Manbat!”

“It’s Batman,” he growls, punching and kicking. As far as finesse goes, he has something that resembles it, but nothing compared to hers. 

“Don’t take all the fun,” she chides, throwing herself into the fight. Someone has to show him how it’s done, after all. “You really chose the name Batman, huh? Did you think it through at all?”

“You go by Catwoman.”

She shrugs, points to her cradle for her goggles on her head; with its two side points, the cradle looks vaguely like cat ears. “If the name fits. And I’m not dressing like a furry.”

He frowns what may or may not be an angry frown. “I’m not a furry.”

“Sure, you’re not.” Her tone is too consoling. She sees the blue and red flashing lights reflecting off the museum walls as the cop cars arrive. “Oh, goody. Your friends are here.”

And then she isn’t. Neither is a Monet and a priceless chalice. It wasn’t as if anyone could blame her, though. She hated leaving events empty-handed, and she never worked security for free.

It only occurs to her later that she teamed up with him. And that Steve Rogers had disappeared shortly before he appeared.

* * *

Her favorite heists are usually when Steve Rogers is out of town. She recognizes the pattern. No Steve Rogers, no Batman. Not difficult to guess why.

He joins the Justice League, and then she’s more cautious, never quite sure when the Steve Rogers in town is a shapeshifter from the League, if someone else from the League is babysitting Gotham and pretending to be him.

Still, business is pretty good. In between people trying to take over the city (why would anyone bother? – it’s _Gotham_ ), trying to destroy the city (more understandable, frankly), and in short being a nuisance, she manages to keep working. On the few occasions she gets caught, she escapes with ease. 

Sometimes, she gets a regular job. Usually it’s to scope a place out, but she’s surprised to find how much putting on office clothes makes her feel like her old self, the cautious, pragmatic yet hopeful young woman who believed in ideals. She doesn’t believe in them anymore, not like she used to, but if she’d given up on them entirely, she wouldn’t be Catwoman, would she?

* * *

She warns Steve Rogers of a trap Penguin is setting up. He tries to look stupid and ask why she would tell him that Penguin wants to trap Batman.

“You’re overdoing stupid,” she tells him before jumping out a window.

Just for fun, she’d snagged his wallet on the way out.

Of course, if he really _is_ Batman, that means he let her.

* * *

They aren’t enemies, but they aren’t allies, either. Sometimes, their goals align. But she’s a thief, and he’s a furry cop. They’re only going to agree so much.

One night, after a friendly chase on the rooftops, he unmasks to her, looks at her with the bravado that hides his fear. “I’m Steve Rogers.”

She stares at him. “What part of me warning about you that Penguin was going to trap you didn’t tell you I already knew?”

“I just thought-”

“For the world’s greatest detective, you’re a huge dumbass.” She moves to leave, but he catches her hand.

He gives her time to pull away, but she doesn’t, and he tugs her into a kiss.

She wants to hate herself for enjoying a kiss with a furry cop, but it’s hard to do when it’s him.

* * *

He takes in other people, like sidekicks, usually young men. She takes in other people, like sidekicks, usually young women. They each train people to the best of their abilities and unleash them upon the world.

But their world is small, and she meets his little Robins. She and Bucky get along well enough. She and Rick, the same. He trains one, Bernie, and that one hurts because his intentions may be good, but he isn’t accustomed to working with young women, and Sharon has to help where she can. She meets his son, Ian, who is angry at the world and everything in it. Still, she makes an effort, because Gotham is unkind to the young and the hopeful.

Steve invites her to help on a mission. It’s suspiciously date-like.

“Is this a date?” she asks over dessert.

“It could be,” he admits. “I can multitask.”

“So can I,” she says.

He looks at her, with that same stony look he uses when he’s Batman, and she wonders if he’s as confused as everyone else if he’s Steve Rogers or Batman.

She can tell he’s trying to work out how to ask her out. Poor guy. When it comes to feigning emotions, he’s a moron. When it comes to expressing genuine emotions, he’s hopeless. “I’d only be after you for your money, of course.”

“Of course.”

* * *

They don’t respect the three-date rule, ending up on a rooftop on top of his cape, with her laughing quietly beside him because of how ridiculous all of this is.

He tucks a hand underneath his head. “What made you decide to become Catwoman?”

“Student loans,” she teases.

He frowns, and she sighs as she realizes the romance is done with for now. “Really,” he says, judgment a bit too thick in his voice.

That tone is enough to push each and every one of her buttons. She props her cheek on an elbow. “Really?” She makes sure her tone is full enough of challenge that even he couldn’t miss it.

“Really. I know your family is wealthy. Old money. Almost on par with mine. And full of diplomats and spies and politicians. You could have been anything you wanted to be. Why choose to be a thief?”

“A politician is just a thief who does PR.”

He looks at her, and she sighs.

“All right, but tit for tat.”

“Sure.”

“I wanted to be a spy. Trained for it. My family supported me. But then the agency collapsed. And none of the others would take me. So there I was with all these skills and no way to properly use them. The more common agencies wouldn’t have challenged me, and I like challenges. So… I went freelance. And that tended to be doing illegal things without the government giving me permission first. But I like to think it makes a difference. For the better, of course.”

“Hm.” He lifted her hand to his lips, his touch brushing along her skin.

“Okay. Spill. What’s with the Batman deal?”

He grinned. “’The Batman deal.’ You heard about my mom?”

She vaguely remembers the story. His father died when he was young. Suitors had been hovering over his mother, still young and abhorrently rich. He had gone to the movies with her. They’d gotten separated from the crowd on their way to the car. She’d been gunned down while protecting him. “I think everyone has.”

“She was sick at the time.”

She frowns up at him. “How sick?”

“Maybe a couple years left, at most. She’d already started making arrangements for me. I knew she was going to die. I just thought it would be peaceful. That she wouldn’t be afraid. That we’d have more time. That she could die on her terms. The man who killed her took that. That’s why. Because I wanted to do what the cops couldn’t – or wouldn’t. The cape lets me do that.”

She cuddles closer. “Has it been worth it?”

“I think so.” He pauses, and what he doesn’t say is always just as weighty as what he chooses to say. “It has to be, right?”

She doesn’t answer. She wouldn’t be able to do it in a way he believes, anyway. The desperate hope that they make some sort of difference in this place is all they have; they’ll never know for sure.

* * *

He proposes on a rooftop, the first one they fought on. She tells him, “You know this isn’t going to be normal, right?”

He says, “Nothing with you ever is,” as if he isn’t dressed as a giant bat.

“So long as you know what you’re getting into,” she says, amused.

For a night, for a week, for almost a month, they’re happy.

But Gotham is always an interesting place, and so, so often, “interesting” is a curse.

* * *

In another universe, his father survives. Sharon isn’t such a major player in the universe that she’ll ever know about many of her counterparts, but Batman is a different story. He attacks Steve, breaks him, and she steals him away. She takes him far, far away where his father can never find him. She steals what she needs to cover his medical care. She spends most of her time by his side.

He’s too good a person to lose. She doesn’t tell him that enough.

While she waits, she listens to his struggling breath and plans and plots.

He wakes. She pushes him almost as much as he pushes himself and isn’t afraid to be mean when she thinks he’s taking things too far.

She leaves him in the night, knowing he’s still not well enough to follow, knowing he may not forgive her but knowing his life is more important than his love.

* * *

The rogues gallery that has taken over Gotham has a rule: None of Batman’s allies are allowed in the city. Their hostage? Ian. Who likely hates them for making him look weak. He’s likely chomping at the bit to give his captors what for, and he, like his captors, are likely not to want Batman’s allies around.

But she isn’t an ally, strictly speaking. She’s his fiancee. And that’s different.

That’s dangerous.

They don’t have a thief on their payroll. Not one like her. It isn’t their only mistake. Other thieves see a goal and go for it. Sharon has trained herself to see a heist like a 3D map across time and space. How one thing will impact another. Who will benefit from what. How a millisecond can make a world of difference.

Steve will be upset she left him behind, but she’s always done her best work alone.

First, she turns several of them against one another, slightly less-than-obvious red herrings that point to someone higher-up screwing them over. Then she plants suggestions around town that the lower-level goons are disloyal.

His father might see through them, but it’ll take time to know for sure. Gotham goons aren’t known for their loyalty.

It doesn’t hurt that the suspicion will make them more likely to turn. It’s always amused her that the goons in Gotham, once they think everything believes them to be disloyal, decide to be disloyal as a result. It amuses her, and it gives her something she can use.

She sneaks into Rogers Manor. It isn’t the first time she’s let herself in without Steve’s knowledge. She finds Ian, steals him just as she’s stolen so many diamonds before.

“You’re louder than a diamond,” she complains as she lets him loose in her apartment.

“You don’t know what you’re doing,” he snaps at her. “My grandfather may well kill everyone.”

“Not if I kill him first.”

Ian looks at her with suspicion and a hesitant awe. “Father won’t forgive you if you kill.”

“You’d be surprised what your father can forgive, Ian.” She looks to the window, then turns to rummage through some of her old supplies. “We’re going old-school for this.” She hands him a comm that’s older than he is. “Call in the Justice League. Tell them you’re free – and that means the city itself is the hostage now. Along with all the people living in it.”

“And then what?” he says petulantly. “Stay here like a good child?”

“No. Go out and raise hell. That’s what the comm is for. I’ll be doing the same. Put them down hard. If you put them down for good, let me know, and I’ll take the heat with your father.”

He looks at her with grudging respect before he even realizes it. He quickly hides it. “Fine. I’ll see you out there.”

She pauses, her foot on the windowsill. “And if you’re thinking about telling your father about this place, go ahead. I’ll be moving before the week is out.”

* * *

She’s fought most of them before. They’re not that hard. Especially when Gotham itself is on the line. This city is as much hers as anyone else’s. Maybe more hers. She’s the only one who knows more ways to break into any of these buildings than Steve. The only one who knows the streets better without needing a variety or disguises or batarangs.

She can handle the criminals of Gotham.

Still, she’s more than a little offended to be lumped in with them and put in a holding cell by Superman, for God’s sake.

She’s also offended to be captured by Superman, but she supposes she can only do so much against superspeed. 

For now.

* * *

Superman ends up apologizing profusely. He hadn’t realized Catwoman was working with Batman.

She narrows her eyes at him. She’d managed to escape, of course, but getting arrested by a super-fast, flying alien had been inconvenient. “If you ever wonder why I like your wife more, this is only _one_ of the reasons.”

Steve, standing off to the side in his best Batman suit, quirks his lips. The equivalent of a Batman belly-laugh.

Superman, even with his super-speed, needs a few seconds to process that Sharon knows who he and his wife are. “Let me make it up to you,” he says at last.

* * *

It turns out Superman is allowed to marry people.

The ceremony is small. Sharon. Steve. Superman (come on, Sam Wilson. Come on. Like she doesn’t know). Ian. Bernie. Bucky. It’s nice that they approve enough to be there.

* * *

The next morning, it feels like a dream, but she wakes up beside him in his bed, his arm heavy on her chest, and she laughs as the reality sets in.

He makes a sleepy, inquisitive sound.

“Nothing,” she says. “I just always thought I’d never be the sort to marry and settle down with a white picket fence and all that.”

He forces his eyes open. “But it’s a hell of a white picket fence, Mrs. Rogers.”

She laughs again and moves to kiss his lips. “That it is, Mr. Rogers. That it is.”


End file.
